Waia flicked the barrier in the doorway and watched the white ripples flicker across the doorway. “This is dumb. If Deus doesn’t want anyone in there except him, why shift the rules around so that humans can get in? I know he’s weird about them and all that, but I still don’t think he’d want them touching his stuff.”
Quet rhythmically tapped a stone in the palm of her hand, making another stone on the ground leap around like cooking popcorn. “Dunno, maybe he thought of the rule in his head and phrased it weird. Primus powers aren’t known for their loopholes, but you probably shouldn’t keep trying to look for answers after the day we’ve had so far.”
“I need something to think about. We’ve been here for ages!”
“Mark left thirty seconds ago,” said Quet.
Waia rolled her eyes and went back to flicking the barrier. “Thirty seconds, yeah right…”
“I can check my time-stone if you want proof,” added Quet.
“Your ti–? Just get a watch!”
“Nah.”
Omet sat off to the side, listening to Quet and Waia argue. They glanced over at Horan, who floated a few feet off the edge of the ledge and stared up into the clouds. “Hey, you still in there?”
Horan twisted around to bring Omet into his narrow field of view. “Hmm?”
“Sorry, uh…” Omet cleared their throat. “I just… Things are pretty crazy right now, and I know a lot’s been going through your head, the same’s true for everybody. Mark’s mad at you, Quet’s probably a little mad at you, but I just want you to know that I don’t blame you… for…” They raised their voice to attract Quet and Waia’s attention and pointed to the bridge that led out of the hole. “Hey, who’s that?”
Waia turned to look at what Omet pointed at, and stiffened when she saw it.
Torch slowly walked across the first of the bridges, pearl mask staring at all before them. But the way that they walked was different, unfamiliar. Instead of the usual graceful, reserved stride that kept everything below the neck engulfed within their cloak, Torch strolled with visibly unfamiliar casualness and confidence, struggling to avoid tripping over the slats in the wooden bridge.
Omet glanced at Waia. “That the one?”
“It’s the one,” confirmed Waia, not taking her gaze off of Torch.
Torch noticed the four Primoi staring at them and stopped for a moment. When they spoke, they possessed neither the soulless facsimile of emotion that Torch displayed, nor the cadence of an actual person. They spoke like an alien who was putting emotion into their voice for the first time. The only way one could tell it was Torch’s voice was because it was coming from behind their mask. Without that indicator, it could have come from anyone. Nevertheless, it sounded familiar. “I was wondering when you’d notice me. Evening, everyone.”
Waia stepped away from the doorway and clenched her fists. “Looks like we were right about this place. It was a setup. Where’re the rest of your goons? Hiding behind the trees and waiting to shoot us when you give the order? Because you tried that a few–”
Torch held up a hand, their fingers dangling limply. “I’m here alone, so calm down. This thing certainly isn’t here to have a tea party with you, if it helps.”
“You better not be,” said Waia, taking a single step forward.
“Ooh, scary.” Torch began to step forward as well, but stopped and brought a hand to their chest. “Oh, hey, that’s a new one! My word, this thing’s certainly got an opinion or two on you.”
“What… thing?” growled Waia, shifting her foot stance impatiently.
Torch shrugged and waved their hand up and down in front of their head and torso. “All this. In case you’re too stupid to tell, I’m not the one who’s usually behind the eyes in this thing. I’m sure you’re all dying to have a heart-to-heart with a corpse I found in a ditch outside Wells-next-the-Sea, but I’d like to have a few words with you all first. A few words as myself, that is.”
“You’re testing my patience,” said Waia, with an obviously fake veneer of calm. Behind her, Horan and Omet exchanged a worried look.
“I won’t be long,” responded whoever was behind Torch’s mask. “Just a couple formalities before I let you all get down to business. You clearly have yet to put the pieces together, somehow, so let me just point out that yes, it was me who handed you that old car. I’m genuinely not sure how the green one hasn’t interrupted me to point that out.”
“Wait, that was you?” asked Quet.
“My point exactly. I shan’t complain about your predictability, but it does get so dreadfully boring to hear you all speak sometimes.” The person in Torch’s body sighed and continued to slowly walk across the bridge. “I would introduce myself at this point, as is proper, but I’m afraid that’s still a topic I’m working on. You have my brother to thank for that little stunt. And no, do not call me Esparza. It was the first name I could think of that would make it seem like this thing came from this sand-pile of a country.”
Omet looked between Horan, Quet and Waia. “W–What do you want from us? I’d prefer if we didn’t have to try and kill each other right now.”
“Not happening,” said Waia.
The person in Torch’s body shrugged. “That’s not something you need to think too hard about. You’re all under the impression that I’ve come here because I want to do some drawn-out negotiations– as if I would ever stoop so low– when I really do just want to keep this brief. This is only my… fifth time in this body, and sure, it does what it needs to be an avatar of my will, but the whole ‘reanimated corpse’ thing sucks. It hurts everywhere in this thing.”
“Then get this over with and bring back Torch,” said Waia icily. “Don’t waste our time.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” said the stranger, as they arrived at the end of the first bridge and stepped onto the nearest of the pillars. “I could never waste the opportunity to make use of a good disappointment. To see your resolve crumble as tragedy after inescapable tragedy strikes you? I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”
Omet saw Horan glance at them, and tried to avoid making it clear that they had noticed.
“It’s just…” The stranger chuckled and shook their head. “I keep being surprised by how gullible you become when you’re desperate. Seriously, you’re so starved for a win that you held out hope that, out of the hundreds of decoy sites all over the world, this one would be the one that hides your saving grace? Yeah, no. You won’t find the Seraphium’s real hiding spot– name wasn’t my idea, by the way– in a hundred million years. And no, I’ve made sure you won’t be making it that far, immortal or no… So, all in all, I just wanted to let you know that you’re being watched, and you’re doing a great job of being watchable. Toodle pip!”
Torch’s posture stiffened and their arms retreated to their sides, making their armored lower body vanish behind their cloak. They adjusted their hood before continuing towards the four Primoi in a calm, reserved stride. “Greetings. My progenitor’s… introductions have concluded, and we may commence with single combat.” They whistled and their sword flew from the sling on their back and into their single outstretched hand. “You are to begin your approach.”
Waia shifted into her true form and took two steps forward before Omet put a hand on her shoulder. She turned to look at them, scowling. “What?”
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“We’re with you all the way, just remember th–”
“If I see any of you take a single step off this platform,” responded Waia, “I’ll throw your dead body into the hole once I’m done. Understood?”
Omet withdrew their hand and stepped away from Waia.
“Thanks.” Waia turned and sprinted across the first bridge, crossing the distance between her and Torch in record speed.
Torch maintained their slow pace, eyelike slit in their mask staring unblinkingly at the approaching Primus.
Waia bounded over one of the fifty-foot pillars in a little over a second. “I know you saw me at the city! Do you recognize me? Do you know what you did?!”
Torch continued their calm walk in silence.
“If you won’t answer me now, then I’ll beat a confession out of you!” Waia lunged the rest of the distance between herself and Torch, one fist pulled back.
Torch ducked to the side, the punch barely missing their head. When Waia swung in a horizontal arc with her free hand, they ducked low. When she brought a knee up to strike them in the chin, they leapt backwards and landed ten feet away with their sword held out defensively.
Waia launched herself forward again, only for Torch to push her aside with the flat of their blade and deflect her off to the side. Waia landed and immediately redirected her momentum back towards, and was then deflected once again in the exact same manner.
“Would you stop that?!” Waia swung at Torch’s head over and over, with each lightning-fast blow dodged and sidestepped with no visible sign of effort. She roared and jabbed at Torch’s chest, which they blocked at the last second with their sword. Torch skidded backwards a full three feet, but maintained their defensive posture with the rigidity of a statue.
“You repeat the futile,” noted Torch while Waia slammed into their raised blade over and over, each time knocking them closer and closer to the edge of the pillar. “You deny your purpose, as if doing so will alter the course of the plan.”
“Shut it!” Waia swiped Torch’s sword aside and slammed her fist into the thin armor plating that protected their sternum.
Torch flew over the seemingly bottomless pit and landed on one of the other pillars, a smoking dent in their chest. They tumbled over the smooth stone and landed face-down in the middle of the pillar.
Waia shook her hand out and planted her feet wide, preparing to jump. “You just gonna play prevent defense until I get tired? Stand up and fight!”
Torch staggered to their feet, sword still in one hand, and slowly approached the edge of the pillar, looking down at Waia. With the sound of crumpling metal, the dent in their chest popped back into place without a scratch. Several dozen lines of tiny, illegible text lit up with a dim blue light on the inside of their cloak. “As you wish.”
Torch vanished in a lightning-fast burst of light, leaving a faint outline of their silhouette where they had been. In an instant, they appeared in front of Waia, sword already swinging at her abdomen.
Waia was sent hurtling to the edge of the pillar, gold streaming from the gash in her stomach. She brought her feet down to the ground as she tumbled through the air, attempting to anchor herself in place before she went over the edge. Two shallow trails of molten stone followed her boots as she dragged herself to a halt.
Before she could fully right herself, Torch blinked in front her again, sword coming down on her head in a vertical swing. Waia grabbed the blade and tried to hold it in place. One leg swept back to steady herself, then melted the stone beneath it. A trail of lava flowed up Waia’s back and onto her arms, coalescing into a fresh pair of armored gauntlets.
Torch renewed their assault on Waia with an impossibly fast barrage of teleport-strikes, blinking between swings with enough speed to leave behind a trail of ghostly blue outlines that looked like they were attacking Waia on their own. Waia desperately attempted to keep up with the flurry of frontal sword swings, deflecting each strike with one gauntlet before immediately pivoting to block the next. The unrelenting pressure continually forced her back step-by-step, requiring all of her focus to maintain her footing while maintaining an unbroken defense.
Eventually, Torch pushed her far enough back that one foot slipped on the edge of the pillar, making her lose her balance momentarily. Torch struck like a viper, pushing their sword past Waia’s raised gauntlets and gashing the side of her neck.
Waia roared with indignation and surged away from the pillar’s edge, batting Torch’s sword aside before bringing her leg up and kicking them in the gut. Torch was sent tumbling to the far side of the pillar, and before they had the chance to come to a stop, Waia leapt into the air and sailed towards them, one gauntlet pulled back in anticipation.
Torch gripped their sword and whistled. The sword took off into the air of its own accord and pulled a prone Torch out of harm’s way a moment before Waia impacted the ground where they had been.
Torch let go of the sword mid-air, which spun around and swooped towards Waia, angling its blade to face her. Waia put her gauntleted hand in the sword’s path and grabbed it out of the air as it raced towards her gold-stained throat.
Waia looked past the struggling sword to see Torch’s cloak billowing around their airborne form like the wings of a circling vulture. While her attention was momentarily elsewhere, the sword jerked to the side, pulling her arm away from her face just in time for Torch to blink forward and punch her in the jaw.
A shockwave of blue energy erupted from the point of contact, slamming Waia down into the floor with enough force to crack the stone beneath her back. Torch flipped through the air, landed gracefully back on the ground, and whistled. The sword yanked itself out of Waia’s grip, slashed her across the face, and returned to Torch’s hand.
Horan’s attention to the duel in front of him was broken when he saw Quet rifling through her pockets. “…What are you doing? She said not to interfere!”
“Waia’s getting diced like an onion,” mumbled Quet. “I just need something to… no, no, useless, useless, useless…” Her breathing grew ragged and her fingers writhed as she searched.
Omet nudged Horan from the side. “Can you maybe just… I dunno, nudge one of them to the side where it counts? Tip the scales a little?”
Horan took a deep breath. “Let me see what I can do…”
Waia leapt to her feet and charged at Torch, the lava on the tips of her fingers sharpening into talons. Right before she made contact and pinned them in place, Torch blinked to Waia’s side and brought their blade forward in a decapitating strike.
The instant before their sword made contact with Waia’s throat, a blast of wind shoved it up and over her head, passing by harmlessly.
Waia glared at Horan’s raised arms for a split second before whipping around and swiping at Torch, scoring a shallow gash in their shoulder.
Torch leapt away from Waia’s second swing, sword raised defensively. “What motivates you to continue fighting against that which you know cannot be stopped?”
Waia clawed at Torch’s raised sword, attempting to get past it and grab their mask. “As if you don’t know! Just go ahead and admit that you don’t remember me!”
Torch blinked to the side and lunged at Waia, only to find their sword thrust blocked by the open palm of Waia’s hand. “What did you do that led to you being deemed so important as to warrant a personal greeting from my progenitor?”
Waia shoved Torch’s sword aside and backhanded them across the face. “Answer me!”
Torch stumbled away from Waia, bringing one hand up to their face to ensure that their mask had not slipped. “You were recognized in the crowd at Cuernav–”
Waia slammed into Torch at full speed, the armor around their chest crumpling like paper in her two-handed grip as she lifted them off the ground, still running ahead at full tilt.
The two of them went over the side of the pillar, plummeting down towards the darkness with Torch still trapped in Waia’s vice grip. A moment before the two of them vanished from sight, Torch blinked up above the pillars, dragging Waia with them.
Waia clawed and tore at Torch’s armor in frenzied desperation, while Torch blinked from place to place at an increasingly rapid pace, their desperation becoming clear in kind. The air above the pit was filled with dozens and dozens of flashes and fleeting silhouettes as Torch tried as hard as they could to shake Waia off.
Eventually, Waia managed to grab hold of Torch’s glowing cloak, halting the barrage of uncoordinated teleportation. She yanked a fistful of black velvet back, pulling Torch off-balance, spun around in the air, and hurled Torch down into the ground.
Torch landed face-first on the pillar closest to Horan, Quet and Omet’s platform with a loud crunch. Their mask shattered to pieces, lacerating their face as they struggled to gather the strength to rise.
Waia landed on the bridge leading to the pillar, making it sway dangerously from the impact. She stared down at Torch, breathing heavily, as blood leaked from their face onto the floor. “I… I win… I always win…”
Torch whistled and called their sword into their hand, pointing the tip down and using it as a support to stand up. “Those masks are irreplaceable, and you destroy them again and again...”
“Shame, isn’t it?” Huffed Waia. “Now, unless you feel like making things best of three, I would recommend that you hold still and let me finish this.”
Torch struggled to their feet and turned to face Waia, their face covered in blood. They took three slow steps forward, coming to the edge of the bridge on which Waia stood. “You… You think yourself better than me?”
Waia flexed the clawed gauntlets on her hands and grinned with exhilaration. “I am better than y–”
“Wrong answer!” Torch sliced through the ropes connecting the bridge to the pillar.
A split second of confused dread on her face was all that Waia managed to muster before the bridge fell out from under her and she plummeted out of sight.